Pebbles, Gummispace, and Everything In Between
by Herald Aros
Summary: [drabble collection] Everyone deserves a time in the spotlight. [one for each character] And everyone is similar to something. [postKH2]
1. Flower

Disclaimer: Not that anyone thinks I do, but I most certainly don't own Kingdom Hearts. Did anyone here not know that? Didn't think so. And, as this is gonna be a series-ish thing, this disclaimer applies to all later chapters. As in, I don't own it now, I won't own it in the fourth chapter, or the tenth, or the sixtieth. Yanno?

Author's Notes: I wrote all of these at school, and did most of the editing there. I'm still writing them as of now, and I'll post new chapters as I write more. Also, all of these are exactly 100 words (by Microsoft Word's standards, which means dashed words count as one, which screwed me up a bit, but _anyways_...), and there will be at least one for each character. Alternates (as in, drabbles that I wrote and didn't especially like) will be marked as such.

* * *

Selphie was a flower, a bright yellow flower with small, soft petals and a fuzzy inside, with a green stem that turned a sad, dull color as the petals were crushed by a life she wasn't meant to live. 

Selphie couldn't remember much about the darkness or the light that brought her back, except for a vivid memory of pleasant warmth coursing through her. That was all.

She wanted it back. She wanted that warmth, not her regular life, with hunger and boredom and death.

She was back in the darkness, only this time, the warmth couldn't chase it away.


	2. Dream

Tidus was a dream, seemingly everywhere at once. He was too-real sometimes and only half-there most of the time.

He could be funny, laughing his ass off at himself and making sure that everyone around him did the same. He could also be deadly serious, but he _usually_ wasn't.

Tidus remembered the darkness and the light, like a bad nightmare followed by a sweet, calming sensation. But then that was yanked away; his dream was interrupted. He wanted to go back, to return to that dream with that sensation that he liked so much. But his life wouldn't let him.

* * *

A/N - Yes, I was rather anti-RL when I wrote this one and the last one (I _did_ write them at school, yanno). Not because make believe is better (that's a given) but because I thought it'd appeal more to someone in their shoes. So, yeah, these first few are like that. 


	3. Smoothie

Wakka was a bright green smoothie. He was loud, loud colors and loud flavors — but the good kind of loud, because he was always half-full and never half-empty.

In the middle-ish area, there's a dark splotch underneath a light swirl. The splotch was the death of his world, all bitter and too salty. The swirl was its rebirth, tangy and sweet like paopu fruit mixed with warm coconuts — an unusual but not entirely repulsive combination.

Lately, Wakka sighed a lot. Something had drained his smoothie, past half-full, straight through the light swirl and into the dark splotch. That something was...

* * *

A/N - Yes, I cut it off there on purpose. No, I won't tell you what I originally had there. Come up with whatever you want or whatever you think is suitable; it's open-ended like that on purpose. 


	4. Rainstorm

Riku was a rainstorm. He was sad (like a dreary mist that hangs around for several days) and angry (like the jagged yellow rips in the sky – there one second, gone the next) and dominating (like the too-loud crashes among the clouds).

Riku washed every stain away, but only on those around him. He carried his own stains (his guilt, his sin, his darkness) around inside, the inky blackness that tainted every part of him from within (watch the tiny white clouds turn into gigantic thunderheads).

He brought life to those around him, but never realized it, because he's Riku.

* * *

A/N - Just in case anyone hasn't realized yet, I'll be updating this once a day every day until I run out of drabbles (which isn't going to happen anytime soon). As always, reviews are appreciated. :) 


	5. Shirt

Sora was a messy red shirt. He was crumpled and none too neat, but clean and smelling faintly of salt water and foreign stains.

Sora was bright and full of life, a vibrant scarlet on good days. But on bad days, he was the dull brownish-red of old bloodstains.

At the hem and sleeves, a few threads were loose, and there were rips here and there, but the material was sturdy and the color stayed strong, despite the all abuse that it suffered over the years.

Sora was a shirt, and he'd readily share with anyone who needed his warmth.


	6. Rope

Kairi was gilded rope. She was flashy on the outside, shining and blinding and casting light-shadows on the walls. But inside, she was tough and sea-weary and slightly brittle (but only in certain places, like friends and family and big silly dresses).

She tied everyone together, bound them around the waist and didn't let go, even in the worst of storms.

Her strongest knots were around Sora and Riku, because those bonds had snapped before, hitting all of them with a stinging whiplash.

Kairi wouldn't lose them again; she wouldn't let them be hurt like that again. No matter what.


	7. Train

Roxas was the mysterious train of Twilight Town. He was bright and sometimes colorful and when he disappeared you were never really sure where he'd gone.

Roxas was strange and magical and not quite there, never quite there, as if he would explode into pixie dust at any moment.

Roxas made you aware of him, made you acknowledge him, but for some reason you could never remember everything you had thought you'd known about him after he was gone.

Roxas was moving, moving, moving on in every instant, leaving behind not-quite-memories and a pinch of pixie dust in his wake.


	8. River Stone

Naminé was a pretty river stone. She was polished and smooth and a light light grey with only a few darkish spots marring her.

She was solid but weighed very little and could be aimed at someone to give them a sizable dent that remained long after they forgot about her.

She was hard with soft edges, was a weapon that had no choice and no practical use, was lonely outside of her white river, or any river for that mater, because she surrounded herself with dark, dry riverbeds that were empty empty _empty_, like she was.

Just like Naminé.


	9. Coal

Donald was a handful of coal. He could get worked up and start a bonfire in his rage, but he could also freeze up and be cold _cold_ colder than Blizzaga on full-power.

He had many good (practical) uses (target practice... lighting fires... target practice... and so on). He was loud and annoying but stubborn in the face of danger.

Donald was a handful (only too eager to burn an offender with vengeful glee), and was altogether too attracted to the lighter things in life (like flame-colored jewels or sun-bright gold), but was a good (useful) friend all the same.

* * *

A/N- So my internet went "pfft!" and pulled this wonderful disappearing act. I only just managed to get on, so this is yesterday's and today's will be along shortly. x.x Sorry for the wait and whatnot. 


	10. Candle

Maleficent was a dying candle. Her "light" (her power, her knowledge, her plans) flickered and swayed, _this_ close to being blown out but never getting a step closer, never actually dying despite her enemies' best efforts.

Maleficent cast dark shadows over everything, darker than a Heartless' body or Riku's heart or the pathetic sniveling souls and minds of the Organization. She shaded everything, made enemies out of friends and laughed as they spilled poisoned blood and poisoned words.

Maleficent was dying dying _dying_ all alone, with no Princess or ally or power to see her off into the final Abyss.


	11. Gummispace

Sephiroth was gummispace. He was everywhere and nowhere, here here _here_ and not not _not_, leading you around in circles, if you even _want_ to follow him, which most don't.

Sephiroth was _dark_, not black or white or grey, because he's every color and no color and _white black green grey blue red orange yellow silver gold tan purple brown_ and _bright bright **bright**_ coming at you in waves of hair and skin and eyes and clothes and _power_ that all ripple together and crash (boomboomBOOM!) on you all at once.

Sephiroth was gummispace, without any friendly worlds at all.

* * *

A/N - Yes, this helped spawn the title. XD The other one was Naminé's, but I'll probably do a more specific "pebble" drabble at some point. Most likely when I get to the little world-specific characters (like Huey, Dewy, and Louis...hm...). Anyway, yeah, this one was fun to write. XD 


	12. Water

Warning: Slight Akuroku if you squint at the end.

* * *

Axel was water. He was the all-encompassing rage of a stormy sea, the unadulterated destruction of a violent tsunami, the unrivaled exhilaration of a great hurricane. 

Axel was the unbound joy of a burbling stream, the unknown depth of a cloudy lake, the untamed ferocity of an un-dammed river.

Axel could lick the wounds of others, could clean them off and send them back _sans_ the dirt and grime that polluted him to his very core.

Axel was polluted and dammed and not very happy, because Axel could never quite reach what he wanted (the sea sea _sea blue eyes..._)

* * *

A/N - Axel and water: not as hard as it sounds, actually. XD And no, I'm not gonna compare any Organization member with their own element. Or rather, I didn't...I've only got two more of them to write, so I'm definitely not gonna start now! XD

Also, I've been grounded, so I'm just gonna put up everything that I've uploaded so far. I'd appreciate reviews on or about all of them (since they give me ideas and tell me what I should keep doing and what I should improve). And I apologize to everyone whose inbox is about to be flooded. XD


	13. Thunder

Demyx is thunder. He's loud loud _loud_, the kind of loud that blows up your eardrums and throttles your brain and disappears a minute later, so that the invading silence is even _louder_ than the noise.

Demyx can be flashy; he's related to it, but isn't it himself. His dirty blond mullet and his black robe clash, as do the bright bright colors of his sitar and the white white walls of his room. Can't you hear them?

_Boomclashbangringgg..._

And again. He's out to change the sky.

_BoomclashBANGring..._

He'll do it, too. Because he's (_thunder loud gone almost-flashy BOOM_) Demyx.

* * *

A/N - Sorry about the tense-difference for this one... It just seems to fit better with Demyx when he's in the present tense. (No, I'm not in denial...XD) 


	14. Candy Fireball

Yuffie was a candy fireball, one of those red-hot sweets that Sora had brought in a bag from "Christmas Town." She was sweet at first but hothot_hot_ after a few seconds, and when you threw her at things she'd jump back, just as quick and just as hard.

Yuffie was hard on the outside but soft on the inside, and it only took one hard bite to break her in half and then she's (munch_munch_**munch**) gone.

Yuffie was (_a fireball red-hot a good jumper hard-soft bitten gone_) The Great Ninja Yuffie, and she wasn't about to change anytime _near_ soon.


	15. Wall

Hayner was a wall. He's sturdy and dependable (you could count on him to always do what he did best — be rebellious) and no matter what you threw at him, he'd send it back or die trying.

Hayner was stubborn and made of brick and if you butted heads with him he'd make you regret it, despite being four feet thick.

Hayner was nigh insurmountable, with about as many handholds as stainless steel, and just as friendly to strangers.

Hayner was a wall, separating his friends and enemies with one solid, blank, unblurred border that rarely opened and never crumbled.


	16. Pillow

Goofy was a pillow. He was soft enough to cry on but hard enough to hit someone with, and he was definitely big enough to absorb any retaliating hits and laughing shrieks sent his way without so much as a wince.

Goofy was everyone's best friend, and a secret-keeper for no small amount of people. He was always understanding, even if he never said anything ("a hug is worth ten thousand words," as his late wife used to say).

Goofy was frayed and stained yellow and brown with old tears and broken hearts, but he's still the same ol' Goof.


	17. Kitten

Mickey was the best-behaved kitten anyone had ever met. He was curious ("well, gee, they all looked so interesting! How could I put one of them back?") and playful ("aw, c'mon Riku! It's just a game of tag!") and friendly ("hi, my name's Mickey!")

But Mickey also had claws, and when they came out they gleamed and sparkled with deadly promise, though they looked almost as unthreatening as him, almost like toys...almost.

Mickey had sharp eyes and sharp teeth and sharp claws, all of it covered by soft fur and soft grins and soft eyes that masked the lion beneath.


	18. Pothole

Fuu was the pothole in the middle of the road, the one that's hard to see clearly, even at noon. She's on the smallish side, not _nearly_ big enough to attract much attention, and she's closemouthed about everything to everyone, total strangers and best friends alike.

Fuu enjoyed tripping people up (but only people she didn't like) and she especially loved watching them stare at her in fear and anger and respect as she flipped them over.

Fuu was deep (deeper than you'd think, looking at her) and smooth and just two steps away from cruel. And she liked it.


	19. Fire

Larxene was fire. She was anger (Xigbar will vouch for that) and passion (that_ would_ explain the satisfied smirks that Roxas and Demyx shared) and hatred (Xemnas had many reasons to give Larxene missions, among them her loyalty to her own dark-flamed not-heart).

Larxene cackled and crackled and threw up sparks when she was excited. She burned higher with more fuel (blood, screams, pain, death) and refused to be soothed, to calm down, to dwindle and fade away, leaving behind nothing, not even ashes.

And then the day came when she couldn't refuse anymore. That day, her flame went out.


	20. Closet

Zexion was a closet. He was relatively small and of very little consequence and could be ignored fairly easily. He was full of various odds and ends, things collected over the years, an assortment of mostly useless information and abilities and natural talents, all just waiting to be pulled out, dusted off, and exploited to his benefit.

Zexion was standardized-white-painted walls and deep, dark blue carpeting (fatally deep, treacherously dark; watch out, just watch...) and a shadowed ceiling.

Zexion was a locked door, was a broken lamp, was perpetually shaded in grays and blacks and blues, was cluttered_crammed_**full** and open_empty_**gone**.


	21. Sea Salt Ice Cream

Leon was sea-salt ice cream. He was cold (even to his friends, usually) and slippery (but only if you didn't handle him right) and he didn't ever fit into just one category (you could spend days trying to figure out what he was and still not succeed).

Leon was salty (stings-your-mouth salty, swift-kick-in-the-taste-buds salty) at first, but then he was sweet (almost-not-there sweet, light-and-airy sweet).

Leon was sticky (can't get rid of him, but who wants to?) and staining (he'll rub off on you) and if he was mass-produced it'd be the best (or the worst) thing that ever happened.


	22. Sword

Pete was a bulky, dusty old sword. He was unpolished but sturdy, not particularly bright by anyone's standards but a relatively good worker (when he put his mind to it... and the odds weren't against him...)

Pete was big, oversized, awkward with his weight like a broadsword being swung this way and that, haphazardly, held by a child. He was all intent and no execution, was filled purpose and empty action.

Pete was getting old, old enough to remember a time before Disney Castle and "King Mickey." He's aging, another useless relic with too much dust and too few scars.


	23. Rock

Auron was a slab of rock with a sword wedged in him. He was cool and calm and dependable, was old and young and ageless, was alive and dead but (_that's not quite right_) undead and gods, he's tired.

That sword in him gleamed its innocence and guilt and neutrality but didn't really gleam at all, because it's dark and he's dark and (_why's that matter_) it's his sin and his mistakes and his duties that he left behind and (_his story was over but_) things had changed.

His sword was pulled out and burned away; he could finally sleep.


	24. Camera

Pence was a camera. Not one of those automatic, picture-spitting upstarts; he was kinda big and a bit slower and it took _time_ for his film to develop, but when that time was up he was _worth_ it.

Pence could be quick (_click-flash!_) and he could be bright (bright enough to leave spots of color on your eyes) and he could be dense about a lot of things ("but Olette, _why_ didn't it float?")

Pence could remember a great deal, full-color images in his head that formed a catalogue of memories. And he was only _too_ happy to add more.


	25. Pirate Ship

Luxord was a pirate ship. He was fearsome (if you knew what to look for) and dangerous and cannier than a city-bred thief.

Luxord was unique (how many ships flew black sails? Only one other), was luck incarnate, was offensive and warring and disinclined to avoid pillaging and wreaking havoc.

Luxord was the sound of cannons firing, was the smell of saltwater and sweat and gunpowder, was the feeling of losing everything you had, all at once, was the worst nightmare you never woke up from.

Luxord was a pirate ship, always sailing on foreign waters, towards some distant horizon.


	26. Wind

Xigbar was wind. He was fast and cold and harsh and warm and empty because there was nothing _to_ him, nothing _in_ him. But he always carried something, some far-off smell or half-heard song or dead leaf, as if such things could complete him and (he knew they couldn't but) he found those things and kept them for a while, then dropped them all at once; one little motion and they were gone, mostly forgotten but never missed.

Xigbar was wind and gales and squalls and breezes, and in all his forms, he was empty_empty_emptier than even the air itself.

* * *

A/N - Am I un-grounded yet? No. But I'm online doing homework and, uh, decided to stop by. XD Anyway, I'll probably update tomorrow as well (at some ridiculously late time, no doubt), but if not I'll definitely update this weekend. 


	27. Irony

Xehanort was irony. He was the last laugh, that sick feeling in the pit of your stomach, fists clenched too tight, humorless, hysterical chuckles.

Xehanort was dark, pervasive darkness, not really funny at all in the same way that misfortune isn't funny (you don't want to laugh but you do anyway, because it's so goddamn _sad_, so pathetic, that if you don't laugh you'll cry and break down and give up and then **he**'ll just laugh at you instead, because he's irony and it's his god-given _right_ to laugh).

Xehanort was irony, sick, twisted irony, irony tainted by dark humor.

* * *

A/N - Okay, _now_ I'm officially un-grounded. So this weekend (and probably the early part of next week) I'll be review-replying and PMing and updating like crazy, okay? (: 


	28. Tie Dye Jacket

Xemnas was a tie-dye jacket. He was vivid, angry reds (scarlet and crimson like fresh blood) dominating over blues (stormy seas) and yellows (bright lightning) and oranges (dull fire). But more than that, more than the mixed colors and splattered reds, there was white white _white_, no-color areas that attacked your eyes like the colors didn't (couldn't).

Xemnas was colorful at first, until you spared a second glance and realized that there was an awful lot of white on him. He was bright-yet-not, vivid-yet-not, unique-yet-not.

Xemnas was empty pockets, was lacking something, was unable to find it.

Xemnas was empty_incomplete_**white**.

* * *

A/N - This was written, like the others, in class, and inspired by my sister's tie-dye jacket (which actually _is_ more white than colored...) XD She was just wearing it and I (two seats behind her) was banging my head against my desk trying to think of something and BAM! (...well, that was an inspiration-BAM!, not an I'm-banging-my-head-on-the-desk-and-something-just-cracked-BAM! XD) Writer's block was removed. 


	29. Empty Grave

Ansem was an empty grave. He was unfulfilled expectations and surprising twists and the not-quite-happy fluttering of butterfly wings in your stomach that always occurs when you meet someone you lost touch with after a while and realize that _yeah_, they're still alive and (...oh. _That's_ why) you had never really liked them to begin with.

Ansem's words and beliefs and heart, his name and feelings and memories, were empty empty _empty_ (hollow ringing in a stone vault) and dead dead _dead_ (old and brittle texture crumbling into a fine dust).

Ansem was dead, but his grave was still empty.


	30. Blank Gravestone

DiZ was a blank gravestone. He was a name and a mask and a personality, but he wasn't a person, was never a person.

DiZ was nothing nothing _nothing_ to everybody except a mouse and a boy and three little Nobodies who weren't actually nobodies because two of them had graves in reality and the third had a grave in hearts and theirs all had names on them and _dammit, they don't deserve that_ but _neither do I_.

DiZ was nothing, not a person, not a nobody, not a heartless. He was a servant of the worlds.

He was forgotten.

* * *

A/N - Well, this one is pretty meh... x.x Sorry 'bout that. 


	31. Gun

A/N - Unlike the last two, which had Halloween-ish tones (please note that I wrote them about a month _before_ Halloween and have been posting these in chronological order XD), this one's kinda just...regular. Kinda. Sorry to let any readers down who were thinking that I'd been leading up to something. :(

* * *

Saïx was a loaded gun. He was dead dead _deadly_ purpose and very little (no) hesitation and (BANG!) savage in the speed of his kills. 

Saïx was

_BANG!_

bloodthirsty and

_bangBANGbang_

didn't know the meaning of "stop"

_BANGbangBANG!_

and his recoil hit long after the fight was over. He never needed

_bangbangBANGbang_

to reload.

Saïx was cold, was careless about death and blood and pain, was efficient in the extreme. He was a killer, maybe not by birth (Nobodies weren't born), but a killer nonetheless.

Saïx was always loaded, always battle-ready, always happy to..._bang!_

Saïx was

_bangBANG_

Saïx.


	32. Canvas

Cloud was a canvas. He wasn't blank, mind you — anything but, actually.

Cloud was the texture of flowers against skin (_green_ stems, _purple_ petals), was the feeling of a breeze ruffling hair (_blue_ wind), was the sound of far-off laughter (_yellow_ laughter), was the scent of sweat and blood (_gray_ sweat, _red_ blood), was death and loss and sorrow and memory and redemption painted in words and pain and tears and tiny flecks of happiness and joy and smiles.

Cloud's canvas wasn't dark or light or blank, but he liked to think it was, because it was easier that way.

* * *

A/N - So sorry about this being late. I just kinda...forgot...yesterday. T.T;;; Anyway, next one on its way! XD 


	33. Bumble Bee

Olette was a bumble bee. She was soft and fuzzy and flew awkwardly, bumping into people and tables without much force.

Olette was smallish and quiet when there were other noises to drown out her constant, near-inaudible humming.

Olette was amusing and cute in the way that any small, fluffy-looking thing was cute, until she decided that she or her friends were threatened. Then she was nasty, all annoying buzzes and sharp stings and _wow_, who knew that _she_ could or would do _that_?

Olette was an awkward, soft, fuzzy, small, quiet, humming, cute, nasty, annoying, buzzing, stinging bumble bee.


End file.
